


The Comfort of a Harsh Beginning

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Lies, Misdirection, and Terrible Truth [4]
Category: Mythology - Fandom, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crossover, GFY, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life holds its own magic, even the simplest of things, and he wonders that anyone might think he would forget that lesson, taught so early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Comfort of a Harsh Beginning

The room is familiar as his own had once been, the ceiling aglow with sunlight, and the air rich with the smell of life. He does not bother to look for Anat - she is in here, but unless she wants to find him, he will not find her. This is her magic, her domain.

It is a comfort, though, to find a place where the roots of a tree twist around a hollow made soft with moss, a welcome seat where he can curl and think. It is a place like this where he first discovered Odin's deception, years ago, though he had not solved all the riddle of it at once. Magic always plays to the strengths of those who use it, and life born in cold does not work the same as that born in heat.

Neither knew comfort in their earliest life, but it was a different sort of harshness.

He curls in the familiar hollow, reaching out to trace a finger along one arching gnarl of root, flowers of frost springing in his wake. The magic that pulsed through the tree only shifted, like some sleeping horse twitching to be rid of a fly. Life holds its own magic, even the simplest of things, and he wonders that anyone might think he would forget that lesson, taught so early.

If, indeed, any had realized just what use he made of his youthful wanderings. He'd always thought Heimdall - until he found he could hide from him - or Odin would have noticed, would have recalled the one who'd offered him the lessons of her magic against the rules of her own father. He had been wrong, and all his webs of lies were accepted as truth by those he'd trusted to know him well enough to see through them. No questions asked about why he had done what he had done. No questions asked at all. Just judgement and betrayal.

Another trail of a finger, another line of frost flowers that melt in the warmth of the room to leave the roots dark with damp. The simplest of things, and why would he seek to destroy the magic that he could better manipulate with deft touches? Why would he abandon the more subtle techniques of manipulation to conquer a world with an army that sought only death?

He let his head drop back, cradled against the trunk of the tree, and closes his eyes. Letting himself revel in the sense of magic everywhere, and letting it cradle him for the moment. Later is soon enough for planning, when here he has a sanctuary that even Odin is not permitted leave to enter.


End file.
